I sat in the courtroom for jury duty and thought about the people and situations that featured there. My mind flitted about, thinking of the accounts they told while in the dock. Good and bad folk came to accuse and defend, but only the truth mattered here, although sometimes it must have been hard to confess. Truth reveals. As a juror I was “the system”, a peer to try my peers; yet I concluded how little difference there was between me and them, the ones who really were guilty. The only divergence I could posit was they acted on impulses I denied.

There may be no greater honesty in the scriptures than Paul’s treatise on the struggle with sin in Romans 7:14-25. “For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing” (v. 19). Right there, in that rut of unrestrained desire, is where my heart seemed to best comprehend the thief and addict and abuser, all of them, and our similarity. No, I have never gone as far, but in my heart I have. We all have—because we’ve liked our sin. Because by it we get our way. Because there are things you and I lust for and sometimes spend considerable time wrangling into submission, if only in our minds. And because we give in because giving in is often the easiest way to get a small rest from the struggle.

CC-Melesmeles

Allowing myself to confront this level of honesty forced me to regard the seriousness of the Cross with more singularity. There is no way to truly see your sinful nakedness and remain formulaic or casual about your salvation. It will make one uncomfortable in the least and sober about the essence of spiritual transformation at best. I hope you get that. This isn’t unlike the conversion stories of Brother Lawrence and Augustine and maybe your grandparents or someone you admire, people whose fire for God was and is fueled by their spiritual candor and utter need for him.

I know that just reading this is inwardly tough for some of us because we appear to have it all together spiritually but struggle inwardly—which proves that we all get it, this tussle with sin. We know how and when our heart and will threaten to desert the godly path and keep us saved but limping. Moreover, we know where we’d be if God hadn’t found us and must confess that he is still redeeming some areas of our lives. We still toy with temptation, play games, and deceive ourselves. Research shows that Christians live very much like non-Christians. It’s how the best of us get in some of the worst trouble. And if we take our cues from the world, we simply do what we feel is right, regardless of our faith.

But sin is no longer enjoyable once it forms chains.

There is a riveting scene in Spider-Man 3 between Spider-Man and Venom that conveys everything I’ve said and more. Peter Parker, if you’ll recall, once wore the symbiote suit—the black one—that is actually an alien lifeform that bonds itself with its host in several ways, altering it for its own evil purposes. Peter got himself free from it; however, Eddie has a grudge with Parker and acquires the suit and attempts to kill him. In the final scene between the two, Spider-Man battles Venom and frees Eddie from the symbiote. Yet when Spidey moves to destroy it, what does Eddie do? See for yourself.

Kayaking was a newly introduced pastime for me, and this was my third time on the river. This portion of the river, above the dam, was very calm and incredibly beautiful. I joined folk from church and a co-worker, her first time kayaking. Everyone was excited to get started.

My co-worker and I chatted with the attendant who was very cordial and reassuring to her because she was concerned about capsizing. “It’s virtually impossible to flip the kayak,” he told us. He explained how the instructors were required to pass rigorous tests that included attempting to capsize; it would really require work to do so.

Soon we were all out on the water. My only concern was that God might play another joke on me like the last time when, returning to port, a giant spider emerged out of my kayak! I had checked my float extra well this time, so no worries. The sun was bright and hot, and the river was exceptionally calm. Here above the dam the depth was 35 feet, which made for the smooth ride unlike below where it was not more than six feet deep and was faster and choppier.

We paddled some and rested some while laughing and talking. About a quarter mile up the river, just before a turn, I commented to my co-worker about something I’d been wondering: “It seems like my kayak has more water in it than when I started.” Or was I just imagining this? But my bottom was wet now. We paddled a little farther, and then I rested, reclining against the backrest. I made the slightest pivot to the left and felt all the water in the kayak rush left; and I was instantly in the river!

I imagine that moment being what death is like because it was the most instant and shockingly new experience I’d had in a long time! My first instinct was to panic, and I think I yelped a few times before I could hear my own words: Emotion kills. Then it dawned on me, “Stop fighting, fool! Just lay back.” I had a lifejacket on. That tense moment over, I laid back in the water and was pulled by a fellow kayaker over to an island just to our left. I dumped the kayak and returned it to the attendant who later found what I had suspected: a leak.

No Need to Fear

CC Robbie1

I imagine God speaking to us in our cares and trials the way I spoke to myself: “Stop your struggling! Stop exhausting yourself! I’ve got you.” He calls an end to our fruitless wresting and needless anxiety and points us to his immediacy and encompassing care for us.

Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand (Is. 41:10).

And again, so appropriate here:

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you (Isa. 43:2).

Friend, your “lifeboat” is going to capsize somewhere along this journey, and sometimes you’ll have the God of all purpose to thank for tipping it! But so what? He doesn’t need to be the “Captain of your ship” when he walks on the waters and speaks peace to them. You are firmly in his grasp. You are his.